


Revival || To Hell and Back

by WilbysSocks



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Dream Team SMP Roleplay (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Mentioned Dream SMP Ensemble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-22 01:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30030765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WilbysSocks/pseuds/WilbysSocks
Summary: hghhhgfhjdh this is my personal invision of the events in the DSMP roleplay- specifically starting from the prison ark. I plan on having a ranboo memory ark and a "villain ark" for Niki, a techno\tommy rivalry, and a lot of other headcannon angsty plot lines as well so-
Kudos: 1





	1. Past the Fire, into the Flame

**Author's Note:**

> I AM NOT CLAIMING RIGHTS TO ANY OF THE DSMP STORY CONTENT. THIS IS STRICTLY FICTIONAL WRITING AND IS ONLY LOSELY BASED OF ACTUAL EVENTS IN THE SMP.  
> TRIGGER WARNING: Abuse, PTSD, manipulation, self-harm, potential suicide mention, death, and trauma flashbacks.

Loud, thundering explosions sounded from above the dense walls of Dream’s cell. One after another, crashing and booming and shaking the ground around the two males. Paranoia, regret, and maybe curiosity began to set in. Rapidly racing across Tommy’s skin in the form of chills and goosebumps pricking up everywhere from his shoulders to his toes.

“What was that—?” He questioned, jerking his gaze first to the fiery wall of lava closing the men in and next to the prisoner standing to his side.  
Dream stopped for a moment, thinking, contemplating, maybe even just listening one more time before finally offering a response 

“Well, it sounded like TNT.” 

“What— What do you mean?” Tommy sputtered and shoved the masked man further away. “What do you mean Dream?!”

The older of the two was eyeing the teenager, calmly as he spoke, “I don’t know, Tommy. All I know is it sounded like TNT was set off—... exploded or something.” 

“Why?! What have you done Dream?!” mind racing with the fears of being stuck, captive, with Dream— with the man who manipulated him for so many years. Tommy’s hands began shaking; He clenched them into fists, Dream didn’t deserve to know how afraid he was. “I know you! What did you do?! You had to have planned this— this... this was supposed to be my LAST time! My last time ever visiting you. I’ve— I was gunna..”

“Tommy relax, you’ll be okay down here for a little while.” 

“What?” 

Dream paused, gazing up at the ceiling of the cell and shrugging before answering the boy, “Well— that sounded like a lot of TNT Tommy, and that could mean something went wrong with the security. You might be stuck here until Sam can figure it out.”  
“Stuck—? No! Nononono no. What— what do you mean stuck? I’ve got— I’ve got things to do Dream, I have a hotel to run! I was gunna go live my life! What the fuck do you mean stuck here?! For how long??”Anxiety welled deeper with every word as the realization sunk in that he may be alone with this man for a while— he began pacing, lapping around the cell and pausing intermittently to look over at the wall of hot, flowing lava locking him in. 

Dream watched, sighing under his mask as his dull eyes followed Tommy’s figure back and forth, and back, and forth. “Tommy you signed that waver, I know you had to of because I WROTE that waver. And if something’s gone wrong then...” 

“Then what—?! Then WHAT Dream?!!”

“Well, then you could be stuck in here for up to a week? Two weeks maybe? If I remember correctly.” As if on cue, another chain of loud, booming explosions rang deeply around the two males. One after the next, barely finishing before another could be heard. 

Tommy’s heart sunk and his skin paled— A week? He could be stuck in there for a week? Maybe longer? “No— No that’s not—... a week? That— That’s seven days! Seven days, Dream! I—“ his breath quickened, fearful of what could conspire in that duration of time. “No— No, I— I don’t want to I—... Sam!! Sam?! I want to go, Sam!! Sam?”


	2. Crying Obsidion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy realizes his fate is left in the hands of Dream when he is locked in the prison holding the man captive. His last life, dangling in the hands of the one true tyrant in the entire SMP- the villain of his world. And the cause of his traumatic past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> abuse, PTSD, manipulation, self-harm, hallucinations, potential suicide mentions

The shrill, shaky and fearful screaming of a sixteen year old, begging for help; Begging for anything—or anyone to respond echoed aimlessly around the cell. 

“SAM— SAM I’M READY TO LEAVE!! SAM? I’D LIKE TO— I’M READY TO GO HOME NOW SAM—“ The cries continued for what felt like ages without response. Tears welled in the boys eyes threatening to fall and collect at his chin where they’d be wiped away or drip to the obsidian paving of the floor. “Let me out!! Sam— PHIL?! PHIL! SAM? I want to go!!” his throat felt hoarse, and this voice shook with fear. He hated Dream- hated him. The man had done so many horrible things to Tommy for so many years- manipulated him, isolated him, beat him and turned all his friends against him. 

"He's not there, Tommy. If he were he would've heard you the first like- ten times. He isn't there." Dream muttered, crossing his arms as he listened to the distant explosions almost lost in thought. A security issue? That could be his big break- if something were wrong with the security, and Tommy really was trapped in there could surely be some kind of blindspot. A miscalculation that could provide the masked man with an escape. His thoughts were soon interrupted though, as the boy in front of him spiralled further into his storm of panic.  
Tommy's eyes darted around the room trying to glaze over the figures of ghostly men he'd started hallucinating at times like these. Figures that washed over him, making his vision blur and head feel heavy- weak even. "It's interesting." Dream finally stated, triggering another slew of sputtering pleas for help from Tommy.

"What the fuck do you mean? What is?! Let me out Dream!" A tear trickled down his cheek as he shouted and wailed, followed by another, and another, until he was all at once crying and screaming and grasping desperately at what little hope he still had in someone letting him free of this nightmare. "What the fuck is going on, Dream? What the fuck are all those sounds?! What's going on! Let me out- Tell Sam to let me out now. You have to have some kind of-of emergency button, something you can pull to get him-"

"I mean, if you really need to get out than maybe we can work-... We could get out together." Tommy's face twisted, much to the opposite of Dreams- under the mask, framed by his ashy-blond hair, the man was smiling. Smiling because his dear game was finally becoming kind of fun again. Smiling because now that Tommy was here with him, there was so much more he could do- so much more he had control over. "Just you and me, like old times, Tommy."

"Fuck. You." Tommy spat, almost interrupting the other male. Just like old times? Was he actually insane? "No. No, fuck you, Dream. What old times? Exile?!"

"Well, yeah we were best buds'-"

"No! No we were not buds- I hated exile! It was horrible. I was- I was lonely, Dream."

"It wasn't that bad, people could visit you... you had a house, and Ghostbur."

"It wasn't that bad-?? Dream you fucking- manipulated me! No one- no one cared! No one visited me! You blew up all my stuff every morning, Dream! I had nothing!" And that made Dream pause for a moment. He pursed his lips and hummed under his breath in disagreement, much to the younger male's distaste. "Get fucked, Dream."

"Mnn, it wasn't- it wasn't that bad. I don't think it was that bad, and I came to see you everyday." A sort of, bittersweet smile crept out from under the mans mask now as he spoke. Maybe out of honest kindness, or maybe to catch a line of vulnerability from Tommy. 

"No..." No longer wanting to bother himself to think about the events he'd gone through in exile, Tommy's tone lowered. He mumbled and hung his head with his sunken shoulders, arms wrapped defensively around himself. "No, it was shit." He thought, but decided not to say aloud by this point. He just wanted to go home- open his hotel and start his life anew, cleansed of Dream's tyranny. Seconds quickly became minutes, became hours, and soon days had gone by- not that the men had any way of knowing. The old clock Sam had given the prisoner was long gone by now, consumed by the wall of liquid fire keeping the two trapped inside. The ball of anxiety in the pit of Tommy's stomach growing bigger with each day, each scream for help, each time his hopes of being let out were crushed.


	3. False Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The days Tommy spends in prison with Dream pass by slowly, the tension between the two growing stronger with every second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING:  
> PTSD, manipulation, death, self-harm, abuse, and potential mentions of suicide.

Hours of screaming, calling out, and even crying left Tommy exhausted- eyes red with dread and agitation. His throat ached, and his voice was weak, hardly there at times. He sat, knees pulled up to his chest with his head down against the dark walls, unsure of what else he could do. No one could hear him, no one was coming, he was alone. He was alone all over again, and with Dream. Classic. 

"Tommy, I've changed. You don't believe me... but I've changed! I have. I've- been here! In this cell." The two had been bickering back and forth for what felt like ages, the cloud of tension only growing larger and larger overhead. It was like cat and dog really, Dream trying to get a crack out of the boy to no avail while Tommy tries with everything he has to keep away. But, with every push, Tommy grows more curious, and more risky. Always finding his way back to the masked man. They always say that curiosity killed the cat, fate, as they call it, could be inevitable. 

"No you haven't. That's bullshit- You haven't changed at all! You're still-... I hate you." Tommy spoke over the man, straining his voice in order to be heard. Dream was nothing but a horrible, lying, manipulative wrongin'- there was no way in Tommy's mind that he could have changed- REALLY changed. Morally and for the better in the time he spent in jail. There was too much he'd done and involved too many people to just say he was different now. He'd hurt people too many times to expect forgiveness.

"Look- Tommy. Whether you like it or not, you're stuck here, okay? We're both stuck here. You and me for... I don't know. However long it takes to fix the security issue or until we find a way to escape." 

"No- no there is no we, and you- you're not getting out of here Dream."

"Well- then I don't know what to tell you- you're- we're stuck in here."

"No we're not! I'm not! I- I can't be. I can't- SAM!" And the fear was back- people like to say that fear, adrenaline, anxiety. All slowly creeps up on you, like a stalking cat or drowning you like a tank of ice water, slowly reaping you of air. But it's not at all like that. It's quick, and painful. Leaving you without air, robbed of breath like a rough jerk in your gut *while* running from a massive wave of water. Thick, pitch dark, foul smelling water. The rapid onset of nauseating anxiety and paranoia.   
The boy was grasping at what flimsy straws he still had left; them being the tiny morsel of hope that Sam would get him out. That Sam was coming.

"Tommy?" Everything stopped. The world, for a moment felt still and the two blondes seemed to stop breathing for half a second. From beyond the wall of fire, Warden Sam could be heard, calling out in response to Tommy's pleas.

"Sam! Oh- Oh my god Sam." The blond's eyes lit up, stammering with a sort of excitement- a sort of relief to finally see someone aside from that horrible ceramic mask. "Sam- y-you've uh- you've gotta let me out of here- you... Sam you need to get me out-"

"Uh... yeah. Tommy- about that." Sam spoke slowly, but Tommy already knew that whatever this lead up to wasn't good. His heart sunk. "I can't actually let you out just yet-"

Tommy interrupted, "What-? No- no, no, no what do you mean?! What do you mean, Sam! Why!?" the boy sputtered, spilling his words out all at once, stopping only to breathe once he'd finished the panicked thought.

"I can't let you out, I haven't found what malfunctioned yet... so you might be stuck in there for a while longer. I- I'm so sorry Tommy." Neither of the males could actually see Sam, but both of them could tell his expression was solemn. He wanted to help Tommy, he really did but he couldn't risk Dream escaping. It was enough work getting him into the prison to begin with, who knew what kind of struggle it would be to catch him again if he did manage to run. He was stuck between a rock and a hard spot, and by written instruction, he had to leave Tommy with Dream for a while longer.  
Tommy's hopeful expression had faded, along with much of the colour in his eyes. He could try to call out to Sam again, but he already knew it'd be for nothing. He was gone already, and even if he wasn't, he couldn't open the gate. He sat back down with a heavy sigh- he could almost feel himself slumping back into hopelessness as the room grew dull all over again. There's nothing worse in life than false hope- getting yourself all excited and ready for a big break and then... nothing. The disappointment, the humiliation, that sense of not being worthy of something and not being good enough. Not knowing why it had to go badly, and feeling ashamed for thinking it wouldn't. There's so much frustration, so much heart-ache in hopelessness. Such a complicated emotion and yet, such an easy one to find. Such an easy one to influence.  
The two were alone again. Just Tommy, Dream, and the faint drip of the crying obsidian that sounded once almost every second. It was melodic, almost like a clock. One by one, drip by drip, over and over and over.   
Focus on the drip. Focus on the drip, Tommy. Pretend Dream isn't there.


End file.
